“Then what would plants and flowers do for a drink and where would rivers come from for you to go sailing on?” “An’ wawtoo to mate mud-pies,” added Toddie. “You’s a naughty boy, Budgie”; and here Toddie’s tears began to flow afresh. “I _ain’t_ a bad boy, an’ I don’t want no old rain nohow, an’ that’s all about it. An’ I don’t want to get up, an’ Maggie must bring me up my breakfast in bed.” “Boo—hoo—oo,” wept Toddie, “wants my brepspup in bed too.” “Boys,” said I, “now listen. You can’t have any breakfast at all, unless you are up and dressed by the time the bell rings. The rising-bell rang some time ago. Now dress like good boys, and you shall have some breakfast, and then you’ll feel a great deal nicer, and then Uncle Harry will play with you and tell you stories all day long.” Budge crept reluctantly out of bed and caught up one of his stockings, while Toddie again began to cry. [Illustration: “AN’ WAWTOO TO MATE MUD-PIES”] “Toddie!” I shouted, “stop that dreadful racket, and dress yourself! What are you crying for?” “Well, I feelsh bad.” “Well, dress yourself, and you’ll feel better.” “Wantsh _you_ to djesh me.” “Bring me your clothes, then—quick!” Again the tears flowed copiously. “Don’t _want_ to bring ’em,” said Toddie. “Then come here!” I shouted, dragging him across the room and snatching up his tiny articles of apparel. I had dressed no small children since I was rather a small boy myself, and Toddies clothing confused me somewhat. I finally got something on him, when a contemptuous laugh from Budge interrupted me. “How you goin’ to put his shirt on under them things?” queried my oldest nephew. “Budge,” I retorted, “how are you going to get any breakfast if you don’t put on something besides that stocking?” The young man’s countenance fell, and just then the breakfast-bell rang. Budge raised a blank face, hurried to the head of the stairs and shouted:— “Maggie?” “What is it, Budge?” “Was—was that the rising-bell or the breakfast-bell?” ”’Twas the breakfast-bell.” There was dead silence for a moment, and then Budge shouted:— “Well, we’ll call that the risin’-bell. You can ring another bell for breakfast pretty soon, when I get dressed.” Then this volunteer adjuster of household affairs came calmly back and commenced dressing in good earnest, while I labored along with Toddie’s wardrobe. “Where’s the button-hook, Budge?” said I. “It’s—I—oh—um—I put it—say, Tod, what did you do with the button-hook yesterday?” “Didn’t hazh no button-hook,” asserted Toddie. “Yes, you did; don’t you ’member how we was a playin’ draw teef, an’ the doctor’s dog had the toofache, and I was pullin’ his teef with the button-hook an’ you was my little boy, an’ I gived the toof-puller to you to hold for me? Where did you put it?” “_I’d_ no,” replied Toddie, putting his hand in his pocket and bringing out a sickly-looking toad.